


manipulating the variables

by runandgo



Category: The West Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-04 16:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13368675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runandgo/pseuds/runandgo
Summary: just a collection of ficlets from tumblr prompts that i thought i might as well post on here.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i’m posting these in chronological order, and i’ve got a lot saved up, so enjoy! most of them are quick, but they were all fun, so here they are. un-betaed, so all mistakes are mine. the prompt is bolded.

**31\. “Do you ever think we should just stop this?”** You could cut the humid April night with a knife, and Josh’s words hang heavy in it and make Sam go cold from the inside out.

  
He swallows. His heart hammers in his ears, louder than the rush of the busy road a couple blocks away. “What do you mean?”

  
Josh’s beer has sweated a circle on the rickety table sitting on Sam’s tiny balcony. It shows as he picks it up and drinks deep, pauses before he says, too-casual, “Don’t play stupid, Sam.” He stares out at the moon, hazy and huge over the river.

  
It’s like he’s been hit in the chest. “Josh, I don’t want -”

  
“You don’t wanna talk about it.” Josh laughs and it’s harsh, almost mean. “You’re the reason it’s a thing at all, Sam. When are we gonna talk about it, huh? Because we haven’t in nine, ten years.”

  
“You kissed me, Josh,” Sam snaps. He’s wounded now, sucker-punched. The memo they were drafting lies forgotten on the seat next to him. “I was - I was fine, I had accepted that - that was all it was going to be. Just friends. And you kissed me.”

  
“Sam -” Josh starts, taking the defensive now, but he’s cut off.

  
“No. Just don’t. You don’t get to bring this up and take a shot at me.” Sam’s eyes burn but he won’t give in to the impulse. He’s cutting this off at the source, refuses to allow more of the hopeless want he’d harbored for so long. “I thought we put it behind us. And I guess I knew, on some level, that you must have guessed. That I was…” He can’t bring himself to say the next few words and suffer more derision. “But I never thought you’d be cheap enough to mention it.”

  
“I’m not being cheap, I’m…” Josh stands up and turns in a circle almost involuntarily. “Goddamn it, listen.”

  
“I won’t.” Sam turns away and steels himself. It’s painful, it’s like burning your own house down, but he’s so tired. It shows in his voice when he speaks. “To answer your question, yes, Josh. I do think we should just stop it. I think that every day. But I don’t think we will.”

  
Finally, that’s met with silence, one that Sam can’t read. After a few seconds, the longest of his life, Josh walks over to where Sam stands and just looks at him, searching for something unknown. “You never know.” Behind that are unspoken conditions - if the time was right, if the stars aligned, if we meet in another life. It’s the final blow and it leaves Sam breathless and reeling, filled at once with hope against his better judgement and a sense of resignation, of finality.

  
And then Josh is gone, the only indications he was there a ring of condensation on the table and notes scrawled on the memo still on the seat, the paper softening in the damp spring air.


	2. Chapter 2

**6\. “Are you kidding me? We’re not ‘fine’!”** Sam’s voice is muffled from where his head is currently resting against his arms, propped on the wheel of the car. “We’re supposed to be in Chicago by 9 AM to be at that fundraising breakfast for the President. And it’s 3 AM, and we’re lost somewhere in rural Indiana. And it’s pretty much my fault.”

  
Josh shifts in the passenger seat and blows a breath out through his nose. “Sam, that’s six hours we still have. There’s plenty of time.”

  
“Well, it would have been nice to actually sleep,” Sam snaps, then winces. “Sorry, I - sorry.” He deflates back against the seat.

  
“Look. Why don’t you stop driving, okay? I don’t know why I let you in the first place.” Josh leans over and takes the map gently from Sam’s hands. “I’ll get us back on the interstate, on the way to Chicago. I slept from Philadelphia to Toledo at least, I had plenty of sleep.” 

“I want to get us there. I want to fix this. I know I can do it.”

  
“Oh, my God,” he mutters. “Sam. Listen. I get it. I get you. And I love you. But with all due respect - don’t be an idiot.”

When he’s met with a stare of indignation, Josh closes his eyes and shakes his head. “No, I mean - of course you can do it, but you’re tired, and you’re pissed off, and you need to sleep. When was the last time you slept for more than two hours?”

  
Sam pauses. “What day is it?”

  
“Oh, yeah. You’re done.” The car door clicks loudly over the crickets as Josh opens it. “Come on, Chinese fire drill.” 

Blessedly, Sam doesn’t argue, but instead of walking over to the passenger side, he leans on the hood and loosens his tie, a kind of faraway look in his eyes. The tightness of the car, the panicked atmosphere, dissipates in the yawning view of the countryside before them. Josh sits next to him and feels something inside him shift deep and right when Sam leans his head on his shoulder. The stars are so numerous that the sky seems to spin with their multitude, and it steals Josh’s breath straight out of his lungs. 

“I love you too,” Sam says quietly, after a period of reflection in front of the stretched-out fields that glitter with dew. Josh turns his head and kisses him sweet and long, and the heavens turn another notch.

  
They climb onto the roof of the car and lay back, Sam’s voice drifting through the dreamy air, pointing out stars and constellations. In his mind’s eye, Josh can picture him, a skinny bright-eyed little boy in a Boy Scout uniform, trampling through the California countryside, dumbstruck by the possibilities laid out in front of him, twinkling in the stars. At his best, Sam’s never lost that optimism. He’s constantly trying to be better, to do better. He thinks with an unselfish mind and gives so much of himself that it’s a wonder there’s anything left.

  
In about a half hour, Sam starts nodding off in the middle of sentences, so they slide down and get back in the car. It only takes a few minutes of driving for him to fall asleep completely with his jacket balled up behind his head, brow furrowed, deep in thought even when he’s not awake. When the sun rises in an hour and eclipses the stars, Josh doesn’t feel the instinctive anxiety that usually comes from staying up all night. Instead, he glances over at Sam and watches how the pink sunlight falls on his face, how it makes him look lighter somehow. 

Passing the toll booth for Lake Shore Drive feels almost as good as winning a primary, and Josh wakes Sam up for a second just to point out the sign. He gives a cheerful noise, then buries his face in his makeshift pillow again, but his hand finds Josh’s, briefly, on the gear shift before pulling away again.

  
The sun, fully risen now, gleams over Lake Michigan as if it’s congratulating them. _You found me. You made it._ A more quiet sort of triumph, but a triumph nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments, kudos, etc. are a great way to encourage me to keep writing <3 you can also prompt me on [tumblr](%E2%80%9Cseaborns.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) if you wanna see something specific!


	3. Chapter 3

**“Does your life revolve around embarrassing me?”** Josh asks, and the smile curls Sam’s lips before he even turns to see him.

  
“Why do you ask?” he replies conversationally, turning at the counter and tilting his head in a challenge.

  
Josh grins and walks over, drops his bag on the couch on the way and steps up right in front of Sam, cornering him in front of his coffee machine. “You told everyone in earshot that I wanted to be a ballerina when I grew up.”

  
“I thought it was cute,” Sam protests, and he tries to make a straight face but fails when Josh’s hands go to his hips.

  
“The president, Sam.” Josh raises his eyebrows, still smiling.

  
He hesitates but comes up empty, then relents. “Okay, yeah, it was funny as hell.”

  
“God. Next time you make fun of me in front of the leader of the free world, make it worth it, okay?” Josh leans in and bumps his nose against Sam’s, and Sam chases him until their lips press together. It’s slow and dark and sweet, molasses. When they pull apart, they’re both still smiling.

  
“I love you, you know?” Sam says, soft, and watches Josh’s eyes as they flash with light.

  
“I love you too,” he responds, almost earnest in sincerity. It makes Sam’s heart jump.

  
So he waits a few moments before blurting “And I bet you’d look amazing in a leotard,” and ducking out of Josh’s embrace to race, laughing, towards the door.

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, comments and kudos make my day, so if you enjoyed it let me know! this is the most melodramatic of all of them, but i enjoyed letting go and writing pure, unadulterated angst.
> 
> if you want to prompt me, see these as soon as i write them, or yell about sam/josh, find me on tumblr [@seaborns](%E2%80%9Cseaborns.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)


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